


Boats and Bruises

by SamwiseLives



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamwiseLives/pseuds/SamwiseLives
Summary: Callum is there when Ben needs him.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 89





	Boats and Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for this, but I was dying to write something for this pairing.

Callum dragged his weary, aching body up the flight of stairs, holding onto both his ribs and the handrail as each step seemed insurmountable.

He had indeed been 'up for it' as Ben had so eloquently put it. Perhaps nothing as strenuous as re-enacting the Kama Sutra, or even low budget porn, but he needed the closeness that lying with his boyfriend brought.  
Surely his Ben would offer up no complaint if a night of passion instead turned into kissing in the dark, hand holding and murmured endearments.

For so long he had only known the cold, hunger. Thirst. The stinking filth of his clothes, his body begging for a clean cloth and splashes of hot water.

Stuart had helped him in and out of the shower at the hospital. Any embarrassment at his older brother getting him clean was turned aside as the warm water had cascaded over his many cuts and bruises. And it had helped, made him feel human once more. 

Curse Keanu. It had hardly seemed likely that the man had no intentions of returning to him. Keanu may have been a man filled with anger, with burning hatred for all he had lost, but he was certainly no killer.

Only... Only he hadn't come back. He had left him to a torturous death. Broken and bleeding, and so very cold.

Falling had been a sudden shock when blessed escape was within his grasp. Falling into the abyss, into a pile of discarded rubbish.  
And he had accepted his fate, in the end. The darkness beginning to consume his waking hours, and the silence of knowing he was the only one.

It was a dream, at first. Ben screaming out his name, coming from some dark, distant place. He had almost ignored it, sleep was better than his hard reality. But it didn't stop, and soon he found himself answering that frantic voice.

Ben was the one who had found him, saved him. Who had called to him, touched him. Ben who had grabbed handfuls of his dirt encrusted clothes. 

Ben who he loved.

He was keen to shrug off his hoodie before Ben appeared with the cool beers, he did not want the young man in the kitchen to see how he struggled. It had almost been easy to put on a brave face, to pretend that he was not suffering, not full of tablets.

Heaven knew Ben had been through enough without the crippling guilt this would no doubt lay upon him.

His arms twisted, and he had to bite on his lip to still the cry that wanted to escape. Although... He could shout the house down, yell so loud that the neighbours would be able hear him through the walls. They would know how it hurt, they would know of his pain.

Ben wouldn't.

Deaf.

It was always there, of course. Some reminder, some clue that his boyfriend didn't always quite catch everything.  
He would have to touch him awake on some mornings. If Ben happened to by lying with his 'good' ear against the mound of pillows, or with his head pressed up against his own heartbeat. 

Gently Callum would run his fingertips across Ben's naked back, drawing patterns that had no meaning against his sleep warmed skin.  
Ben would look up, his attention drawn. And Callum would be graced with a smile, a smile so unguarded, so full of affection, that he had no doubts as to why and how he had fallen so completely for this young tearaway that so very few people had a good word to say about.

He would kiss him, long and slow and full of promise. Speaking without words of the love he had, of what the future could bring.  
It quickly became his most favourite way to begin a new day.

He had been so close to loosing that, so many times, that Callum knew nothing could break him again.

So caught up in his memories, and the struggle to take his clothes from his body, that at first the noise didn't register. Faint, far away. The sound of what might be a door being slammed. Rushing water? Perhaps from outside. Perhaps another drama that he did not want to be party too.  
Then suddenly more. Closer.

Metal. Crashing together so loudly that the walls seemed to shake. And he almost called out, called across the hallway and down the stairs.

Callum dragged him to the floor, cradling him closely, rocking him. Whispering words that he would never hear. Fear racing through his body.

'It's okay. Ssh. It's going to be all right.' He buried his fingers in the soft strands of Ben's hair, pulling back memories of the Vic, and the day he tried so hard to suppress. 'I'm going to look after you. You don't have to be frightened, not about this. We can do this, Ben, I promise you.'

Ben clutched at his clothes in his shaking fists, he could not get close enough.

'I can't hear.' He sobbed. 'I can't hear you.'

'You don't need to.' Callum cried with him, his voice useless in Ben's silent world. 'I'm with you, nothing else matters.'

The sobs had subsided, leaving behind a tremble in Ben that could not be contained. They sat together on the kitchen floor, their hips touching. Callum's back protested at this fresh new assault as the hard kitchen cabinet dug into him.  
It didn't matter.

'I'm sorry.' Ben whispered into the darkening evening. 'For everything.' 

'None of that.' Callum shook his head, 'You don't need to say sorry to me. I love you.' 

Ben watched carefully as Callum spoke, catching the shape of the words, feeling tears once again prickling at his eyes. He swallowed heavily, gathering up the courage he needed. 'I have loved you for a long time, Cal. I just couldn't bear to hurt you.'

'It hurt more when you pushed me away. Don't ever do that to me that again.'

'I should, but I don't think I could.' There was still a hitch to his voice, his throat raw, broken. Exhaustion tugging at him. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under his welcoming sheets and hold this man close, feel him breathe. 'I want you to be happy, and I'm terrified that you never will be while I am in your life.' His voice caught, remembering. 'I don't exactly have a good track record.' His fingers instinctively went to the heavy ring circling his finger.

'When did you last sleep?' Callum asked him softly, taking hold of his hands, taking back the memories.

'I don't know. It's been a while.' The shrug of dismissal, of it not being important, made Callum start.

'How long, Ben?'

'I... I can't. I couldn't.' Ben admitted. 'Not while you were out there somewhere, and before... Keanu... And Dad. It's... It's too much. Denny...' He tailed off, shielding his face in Callum's shoulder, blocking him out entirely.

'Come on.' Callum nudged him, urging him to move. Ben's weak protest nothing more than a noise in the back of his throat. 'Bed.'

Callum slid his arms around him as Ben closed the curtains in his room, shutting out the Square and the familiar faces going about their business.

'Missed you. So much.' Ben murmured, leaning back into the embrace, closing his eyes to the world around him. 'Too much.'

'Missed you too.' Callum's voice little more than a rumble in his chest. Ben might not hear his words, but he knew. He could feel the residual traces of loneliness, dust and fear that still clung to the man holding him. 'I... I thought I'd never see you again.' Callum continued. 'Never have this...' His breath hitched, his hands tightened around Ben's middle, drawing him painfully closer. 'I can't lose you, Ben. I can't lose us.'

Ben was turning, turning in Callum's gentle hold, catching the tears that flowed with the tip of his thumb. 'I wish I could hear your voice. It's been so long.'

'I'm still here. Not going anywhere.' He tilted Ben's face, brought his mouth so close, almost kissing him. 'Bed.' He murmured, his hands settling in the small of Ben's back, teasing across his waistband, his fingers dipping inside. 'Now.'

He had imagined the state Callum must be in, but it still came as a shock as he eased the t-shirt from his body. 'Shit.' Ben's breath caught as he gazed down at the man lying upon his sheets, finally seeing for himself the full extent of his injuries.

'It's all right. Doesn't hurt.' Callum lied, pressing his fingers into a particularly livid bruise. He swallowed his hiss of pain, but not quickly enough.

'Don't!' Ben exclaimed in horror, snatching Callum's hand away. 'Don't do that.' He sighed, tiredness washing over him. 'Stop pretending that any of this is okay. It's never going to be okay, Cal.' He sat back on his heels. 'I'll kill him. I'll find him and I'll fucking kill him for what he's done to you.'

'No.' Callum sat up, his hands on Ben's face, turning him so he could see the words. 'You won't. It's over.'

'This...' Ben gestured weakly at Callum's exposed, battered body, too afraid to touch. 'This is not what I'd call over.'

'Then you make it better.' Callum smiled softly, taking Ben's face in his hand. 'You take it away.'

'How? How can I make any of this better?'

'Well, you could start by kissing me.'

His hearing was gone. 

He had no hope that it would return. The doctors, his friends, his family might all have the right words, the perfect platitudes to reassure him. But he knew, he had felt it as soon as his head connected with the side of that fucking boat. 

He would never again hear the laughter of his daughter, wouldn't hear the songs she danced to, wanting her daddy to join in.

He would never again hear water running from taps, or the close of a draw, the ringing sound of metal against metal.

Never again would he hear the sound of his boyfriend, telling him that he was loved, cherished.

But right now, it didn't seem to matter.  
He had Callum back.

The gentle way Callum moved over him, tongue flicking over his lips, begging silently for entrance. Kissing him, always kissing him. Settling between his parted thighs.  
He didn't need his hearing for the way Callum's hips pushed up, achingly slowly, into him. Making his breath catch, his fingers raking fire down that strong back, pulling him as close as could be.

And he knew he was crying, salty tears crawling down his cheeks once more. Callum was rising up, a flash of panic crossing his features, looking into his eyes for any sign of pain, ready to halt his movements. Ben only shook his head, his lips once again joining with Callum's, his body arching up to meet the onslaught of sensations that rushed through him.

They didn't need words.


End file.
